In What Places

In what places do

my words come in

to contact - actually

touch - with you;

along the axis of

what dreams are

you able to say,

“These words of

his are mine!” How

have you gathered

them together and

placed them just next

to - just beside - the

same sorts of things

you have collected

on other portions of

the journey you have

set yourself upon?

I’d be a fool if I

felt my sayings had

any worth without

your avid capability

adding the layers of

meaning that complete

the beginnings which

my words began.

I have started hundreds

of thousands of verses

and lines and curated

them for you to ingest;

for you to find ways to

bring them to ends.

There is no meaning

in them without a you

to give - and tend into

full-bloom. Get busy

and bring my words

to their rightful end

alongside all that you

have felt or held in such

a way as to say “yes,

and also this!”

Was it the river, or

the bridge? Perhaps

the heron or mayfly?

A tear, a tree, the

mouldering earth?

A walk, an image

the familiarity of

clouds? The scent

of starfish above the

brine, the paddling

under on the webbed

foot of the duck, the

gentle caress of the wind?

Look up long enough

to recognize this partnership

in poeisis, rest deeply into

the realization of our

soulful collaboration. For, where

these kens come closely

and touch, we have discovered

home for the very first time;

we have a new newness

in all the old feelings,

all the old ways.